Ticket To Ride
by tattva
Summary: Just a little songfic (The Beatles' 'Ticket To Ride'), Remus’ reactions to losing his best friend. Shounen-ai (slash) hints, OOTP spoilers.


Ticket To Ride

Songfic to 'Ticket To Ride' by The Beatles, Remus' reactions to Sirius' death. When I heard this song just after reading OOTP, it made me cry, and I thought it would make an interesting songfic. The idea has been around since this time last year, I only got around to writing it this weekend (I have my first year Uni exams in 2 weeks and I'm fed up of revising). Please R&R. I've done a teeny bit of editing on this, I think it ends a bit better now. meh.

DISCLAIMER: I wish Sirius was mine, but he ain't, so there. I don't own anything Harry Potter-related except the books.

_I think I'm gonna be sad_

_I think it's today, yeah._

_The girl that's driving me mad_

_Is going away, yeah._

It doesn't feel like he's gone. I lost him twelve years ago to my own suspicions. Sometimes the worst thing about the last time Voldemort was around wasn't the fear or the attacks, it was the way we were all turned against each other, not knowing who to trust, having no-one to confide in. I could wake up next to him, touch him, kiss him, but I couldn't talk to him, especially not towards the end. We were so distrustful of each other.

I was horrified when he was arrested, but I don't know if I was shocked that he was the spy. I guess my brain went on autopilot, telling me about his heritage, his family, hell even his long, dark hair. I cried when I read it in the _Prophet_, just burst into tears at the breakfast table as I saw him laughing, led away from the devastated street in the grip of three Aurors. I lost everyone in just a couple of weeks.

Twelve years is a long time. Days, months, and years passed, and with their passing I healed. The Wolfsbane potion made life a little bit more bearable. I never forgot him. I never stopped loving him, and I never stopped hating him for betraying them, for deceiving me. There wasn't a day that passed when I didn't think of him. Just when my life was getting better, my appointment at Hogwarts giving me my first real income in years, he was there again.

_She's got a ticket to ride,_

_She's got a ticket to ride,_

_She's got a ticket to ride,_

_And she don't care._

My stomach churned when I read the paper. It was July, warm and sunny, but the discussion over breakfast in the Leaky Cauldron was chilling. Most were concerned with how he had escaped, but my worries were more sinister. I didn't know how he had done it, but the secrets I'd hoped to take to the grave were now at the forefront of my mind. In my room I gazed hopelessly into the early morning sun, and all I wanted was to see him again.

The pictures were haunting; his eyes told stories of fear that I never wanted to know, and his once-sleek hair was matted and greying. No matter how much I told myself that he was a traitor whom I hated, the images of _my_ Sirius, laughing, brave and compassionate, would not leave my head. The close encounters at Hogwarts: I made myself believe he was after Harry, but I couldn't bring myself to divulge our secrets. When we embraced in the Shreiking Shack and I knew none of it was true, my heart felt as though it would melt.

_She said that living with me_

_Was bringing her down, yeah._

_She could never be free_

_When I was around, yeah._

He stayed with me all summer. He hated being cooped-up inside, but it was the best we could do. I'd lost my job again, but for the first time in over a decade I had a friend. Sometimes it was even better than before, we could trust each other completely, but sometimes it was worse. Sometimes he was so hollow, just like a shell of his old self, and sometimes he was so emotional I didn't know what to say or do to stop the pain.

He slowly became himself again, in looks at least. Cutting his hair was a bit of a joint effort (we couldn't just go to the nearest barber!), but with it tangle-free and hanging just past his shoulders he looked so much healthier it was amazing. It didn't take much feeding-up for him to put on enough weight to be his normal skinny self, which was lucky as I was pretty broke. I knew he'd never be quite the same after Azkaban, but he seemed to improve with each day.

I knew he couldn't stay forever, but it still hurt when he left at the end of the summer. I knew that I shouldn't worry about him either, he had a fantastic disguise. He said he was going to see all the places he meant to see before he was imprisoned. I wasn't surprised that he wanted to make the most of his freedom, and the Ministry was still on the lookout. Perhaps I was just worried that this might be the time that I never saw him again.

_She's got a ticket to ride,_

_She's got a ticket to ride,_

_She's got a ticket to ride,_

_And she don't care._

Our sporadic contact through the next year kept me going, although I didn't see him until June he made sure I knew he was OK. Never where he was, but I could imagine him anywhere, soaking up the sun in the South Pacific, or watching clear night skies spin over the savannah. Part of me couldn't believe his audacity in returning to Hogsmeade, but what else would he do? He was so protective of Harry, and of anyone he loved.

When Voldemort returned, Sirius wanted to do anything and everything to prove he was on the side of good. We all believed him, but I think he wanted to prove it to himself that he was better than his roots. Letting the Order have Grimmauld Place was the final and ultimate rejection of his family, but he always wanted to do more. I couldn't be there all the time. It was almost unbearable for him to be always stuck somewhere that he hated so much. He got so angry with it; I begged him not to leave or do anything stupid. He promised me he wouldn't.

_I don't know why she's riding so high,_

_She oughtta think twice,_

_She oughtta do right by me._

_Before she gets to saying goodbye,_

_She oughtta think twice,_

_She oughtta do right by me._

I couldn't believe he was so stupid and headstrong as to leave, but in retrospect I would have been very surprised if he had stayed at home like a good boy. It was like time stopped as he fell backwards, thin frame arched and ebony hair falling across his stunned, pale face. It all happened so fast. Losses in battle are the worst, you have no time to mourn, no time to take things in. There, by the Archway, curses flying past my ears, all I wanted to do was give up.

Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why did he have to be so careless? Sometimes one of the most selfish things someone can do is not to realise how much they're needed, and he just threw himself into the fray like it was all that mattered. It wasn't. Does it not matter now, Sirius? You keep leaving me, everyone keeps leaving me! I can't think which was worse, losing you to the Dark or losing you now. I wonder how many people lose their best friend twice? Why couldn't he have just kept himself safe? For Harry, for the Order? For me?

_I think I'm gonna be sad,_

_I think it's today, yeah._

_The girl that's driving me mad_

_Is going away, yeah._

Now I've got to fight on without him. At least this time our time together was happy. The same pressure was there, but we never doubted each other, we had no reason to. I still want to ask, was it worth it? To get outside, to free himself, so move, to fight: was it worth it when it cost him his life? I knew his pain so well. He hated being a villain in the eyes of the world… he may not have abided by the rules, but when things got critical he always did what he thought was right. Above all, he wanted to protect Harry. I wish I could have shown him that the best way for him to do that would have been to lie low. He could have still been here for us.

But I guess that's what I loved about him, and why I'll always love him. He was always his own person, never going against his feelings no matter how much of a risk it was. His emotions ran so deep, sometimes it was difficult, the way he could be entirely taken over by a melancholy fit, or an exuberant happiness that lasted for days. He wore his emotions on his sleeve; he meant everything he told me. When he told me how much he loved me. When he told me how he'd do anything to stop Voldemort.

He was always reckless, but more so after Azkaban. He punished himself for Lily and James' deaths, he held himself responsible. I told him that all he had to do was be there for Harry and that would be any debt repaid in full, but his conscience never rested. I've lost so much in him. Friend, comrade, lover. Maybe now he can really be free.

_She's got a ticket to ride,_

_She's got a ticket to ride,_

_She's got a ticket to ride,_

_And she don't care._

E N D


End file.
